


True Enough

by torakowalski



Series: Progeny [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Episode Related, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-14
Updated: 2006-08-14
Packaged: 2017-10-18 19:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/192410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torakowalski/pseuds/torakowalski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The lock-them-together-in-a-very-comfortable-room-strategy?” Rodney asked deadpan. “What a shame more of our adversaries don’t know about that torture tactic.  The Genii, for example, could benefit hugely from exploiting it.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	True Enough

**Author's Note:**

> **Huge spoilers** for _Progeny_ , plus incidental spoilers for _Coup D’Etat_ and _Home_
> 
> A/N: Huge, huge thanks to [](http://etben.livejournal.com/profile)[**etben**](http://etben.livejournal.com/) and [](http://users.livejournal.com/tesserae_/profile)[**tesserae_**](http://users.livejournal.com/tesserae_/) for kicking this into shape and extra-special thanks to [](http://users.livejournal.com/tesserae_/profile)[**tesserae_**](http://users.livejournal.com/tesserae_/) for putting up with my last minute panics.

“Hey, careful, watch where you’re putting those hands.” Rodney threw an all-encompassing glare at the two morons, one on either side, who were hustling him out of the prison cell and away to… somewhere else.

Silence. It wasn’t that he expected sparkling conversation, but most of the people they met in this galaxy who liked to lock them up tended at least to _grunt_ occasionally. Apparently Ancients were freakishly silent when transporting prisoners.

Truth be told, Rodney had no idea where they were taking him, but he had a vague hope that maybe something was broken and they needed him to fix it, their version of the Control Chair, maybe. Yes, he could work with that.

But no, he found himself being marched up stairs and along corridors that were eerily familiar, but somehow _wrong_. Like someone had recreated Atlantis from the basic floor plan, but forgot to include -- he wasn’t going to say its soul, he didn’t have a metaphysical relationship with the city like Sheppard did -- something very important.

“You know, if you’ll just tell me where we’re going, I probably know a quicker way to get there.”

Still nothing.

Damn, but he hated silence. The thought crossed his mind that maybe they knew that, maybe they were trying to psych him out. But no, he hadn’t been here all that long, and however brilliant the Ancients may have been at something things, mind reading hadn’t been… wasn’t one of them -- and how weird was it, no longer having to talk about the Ancients in the past tense?

When they finally got where they were going, Rodney was surprised, but not unpleasantly so. Confused, really, more than anything else.

The door to their previous quarters was being guarded by a man who looked slightly familiar, presumably someone Rodney had seen around the city earlier today. He nodded to the men leading Rodney, then opened the door. Rodney felt a hand push against his back, and he stepped forward, eyes scanning the room for threats in a way he was immensely proud of himself for remembering to do.

The first thing he saw was Sheppard, lying on the couch-slash-bed-type-thing in the corner. His eyes were shut, but he looked healthy and his chest was rising and falling evenly. That may have been the only reason Rodney didn’t elbow the guard and run over to the Colonel, but the fact remained that he didn’t and that was what counted.

This was very odd. How on Earth -- or on Asuras -- had Sheppard gotten here first? Although, Rodney reasoned, his captors had made him _walk_ all the way here, presumably Sheppard’s were more humane and had let him take a transporter.

He heard the sound of people moving behind him and braced himself for more shoving, but instead the door made a _whooshclick_ noise and shut behind him.

Rodney spun around, then spun back as he saw Sheppard begin to sit up. Now he did let himself go over to him, but he still didn’t _hurry_. He was cool and calm and contained. _Obviously._

“Are you all right? What the hell is going on?”

Sheppard dropped the hand he’d been rubbing at the back of his neck with and smiled up at him, “I’m good, Rodney, thank you. Just a bit of a headache.”

Hmm. Now that Rodney thought about it, there was a slight throbbing in his head too. Oh God, what if they’d contracted something contagious? _Like what_ \-- the rational part of his mind wanted to know -- _contagious migraines? communicable brain tumors?_. It was a fair point, and he conceded he was perhaps being a little over-dramatic, but he wished the rational part of his brain could make its point slightly less condescendingly.

“Do you know why we’re here?” Rodney let his eyes shift around the room again; they were definitely alone.

Sheppard shrugged. For all that he was apparently in pain, his gestures were loose and easy, “I think maybe they don't know what to do with us,” he said. His eyes were smiling at Rodney as he spoke and it was a little disconcerting. “They’ve got us here and they don’t wanna let us go, but they know we’re not gonna tell them anything, so I think they’re trying a new strategy.”

“The lock-them-together-in-a-very-comfortable-room-strategy?” Rodney asked deadpan. “What a shame more of our adversaries don’t know about that torture tactic. The Genii, for example, could benefit hugely from exploiting it.”

Sheppard rolled his eyes at him -- that was better, that was more normal -- and said, "Hey, it was just a theory.”

“Hmm. Hey,” Rodney said, feeling himself brightening, “Is there any food?”

Sheppard waved a hand to the far side of the room, “Yeah, check it out.”

Rodney hurried to where Sheppard was pointing and felt his mouth fall open. “Oh my God, this is amazing.” He picked up a plate and began filling it with everything he could reach: cheese, ham, bread, olives, cake, crackers, and not a piece of citrus in sight. “Colonel, have you seen this? You’ve got to have some.”

He heard Sheppard laugh, “I’ve already eaten, McKay. Knock yourself out with what’s left.”

Rodney hummed happily and piled his plate higher. He lost a couple of olives on route from the table to the sofa, but figured he didn’t need to feel too sorry; it wasn’t like he was a willing guest or anything.

He plopped himself down on the sofa and ate hungrily, aware of Sheppard watching him and smirking, but too ravenous to really care. “Oh, that’s good,” he said sitting back finally and doing his best to burp quietly, “And there’s no need to look at me like that, Colonel Anorexia, I’ll have you know I was teetering on the brink of a hypoglycemic reaction.”

Sheppard grinned at him, but didn’t speak. Rodney was just eying up his last piece of cake, when he heard Sheppard move.

"Rodney," he said, and Rodney jumped when he realized that Sheppard was nearly on top of him. "I'm bored."

Rodney rolled his eyes, “What are you, five? Entertain yourself.”

Sheppard pouted. He honest-to-God pouted. “You’re no fun.”

“Fun?” Rodney repeated, incredulous, “We’re prisoners of renegade _Ancients_ , Colonel. And you think we should be having fun?”

“Yeah, well,” Sheppard shrugged, “There’s nothing we can actually do at the moment, so we might as well take the time to relax, gather our strength for the big… escape thingy.”

“The ‘big escape thingy’?” Rodney echoed, “Sometimes it worries me that I put my life in your hands.”

“Nah,” Sheppard smiled that smile again, the disconcerting one, “I got good hands.”

Rodney squeaked. One of those good hands was now on his thigh. Squeezing.

“What are,” he cleared his throat and tried again, “What is this?”

“This is us relaxing and regrouping, Rodney.” Sheppard’s hand flexed a little slower, squeezed a little tighter.

“Just to clarify, you aim to achieve this by, uh, by us, er…” He was sure he used to be smoother at this.

“By us getting to know each other a little better,” Sheppard used the head-tilt-of-doom-and-seduction that caused alien women to swoon at his feet. Well, one alien woman, on a hot day, but still.

“Oh.” Rodney opened his mouth to say more, convinced he was a breath away from being both suave and seductive, but then Sheppard’s mouth was there, stealing the breath he’d just drawn in.

Sheppard’s kisses were fast and slick, firm lips and smooth, wet tongue. It was exactly the kind of kiss Rodney liked best and some part of Rodney’s brain -- the tiny, tiny part not preoccupied by _kissing Sheppard_ \-- marveled at how fast Sheppard had learned that.

Then Sheppard’s fingers were tangling in his hair, pulling to the brink of pain and he stopped thinking about Sheppard’s sexual prowess and let himself just enjoy it.

When Sheppard began to pull back, Rodney couldn’t help following, and their kiss ended in a series of increasingly light kisses until their mouths were just resting against each other.

“Rodney,” Sheppard said, his voice rough and throaty, “I want you,”

Rodney’s cock jumped in his pants and nearly embarrassed him right then and there. “What about,” he cleared his throat to remove the squeak, “What about the others?”

Sheppard lifted his head from where he was lipping at Rodney’s neck, “They won’t be back for a while.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do, Rodney, trust me.” When Sheppard spoke, he blew little drafts of warm air over Rodney’s damp skin.

“But,”

“Rodney,” Sheppard’s back tensed as if he were going to move away. Rodney tightened the arm he had around his waist, “I know, okay? I overheard the guards talking when they thought I was asleep. Now, d’you want to talk some more or can I get back to what I was doing?”

“You can get back to – oh,” Rodney sighed, “Yes, that’s nice.”

Rodney didn’t remember the next few minutes, but they must have been good because he suddenly found himself on his back on the sofa, naked, with an equally naked John Sheppard hovering over his lap.

Sheppard’s eyes were dark when he looked up and he licked his lips before he spoke, “Can I?”

“Whatever you want,” Rodney breathed.

Sheppard’s mouth was warm and soft inside, just the right amount of suction, his rough, calloused hand supporting Rodney’s cock from below.

Sheppard sucked and bobbed and flicked his tongue until Rodney’s eyes were rolling back and he was three very fast breaths from coming, and then pulled away.

“What? No, hey, come back,” Rodney had long ago decided that begging was acceptable in the face of orgasm denial.

“Rodney, I’ve been thinking,”

“You have? Now?”

“Supposing these Ancients aren’t really Ancients?”

“What? Who else would they be?” Sheppard was just far enough away that Rodney couldn’t reach him to thrust up against.

“I don’t know,” Sheppard ducked down and licked around the head of Rodney’s cock before pulling back again. “It was just a thought. Doesn’t it seem strange to you that they need information from us? I mean, they’re _Ancients_ , aren’t they supposed to know everything?”

“Well, not _everything_." Rodney frowned, thinking it through, “They might just have stumbled across this city like Teyla suggested.”

“But they have the gene,” Sheppard really must have been thinking about this, “They can work the city.”

“So they _are_ Ancients,” Rodney thumped back against the sofa cushions, satisfied, “Mystery solved, you can go back to giving me head.”

Sheppard rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. Rodney could feel warm breath ghosting over his cock and this was the kind of time he invariably moaned, but instead he found himself talking, "They could be Genii. Some of them have the ATA gene now."

Sheppard sat back on his heels as Rodney had known he would. Damn. This is what happened when Sheppard made him think during sex.

"Anybody else?"

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Colonel, you know this galaxy just as well as I do. Well, almost as well anyway. There could be thousands of civilizations we haven't yet encountered, not to mention leftovers from our own galaxy: the Goa'uld, the Ori -- not that either of those options seem likely -- the Replicators, hell, maybe these are the Furlings."

"And you know stuff about all these guys?"

"Well, I do know almost everything, about," Rodney trailed off. He'd expected Sheppard to roll his eyes, to cut him off before he got that far, Instead, Sheppard looked… interested. Rodney looked down at Sheppard, at the room, at the spread of his favorite food in the corner. Oh. "I know quite a few things."

Sheppard grinned, looking unexpectedly pleased.

He slid down Rodney’s body and took Rodney’s cock into his mouth, all the way down, until Rodney felt the head nudge the roof of Sheppard’s mouth. Sheppard’s hands wrapped around his hips, urging him to thrust up. Rodney hesitated but then obeyed, fucking up, ignoring the strange angle, going deeper and faster until his hips stuttered beyond his control and he came, the force of his orgasm white and shocking, beyond bright.

Distantly, he could feel Sheppard stroking his belly, but Rodney let himself float for a moment, heart pounding, breath coming in heaves, but mind startlingly clear.

Rodney’s eyes snapped open, but he didn’t bother to look around, knowing what he’d see, focusing only on Sheppard. He slid his hands under Sheppard’s armpits and pulled him up, mumbling “Come here, come here,” feeling suddenly desperate.

Sheppard laughed as he moved up Rodney’s body, letting his fingers trail up Rodney’s sides in a way that would have tickled had Rodney been at all focused on that. But Rodney wasn’t. He was focused on the feel of Sheppard’s hot, sweaty skin under his hands, the smell of his hair, and then the taste of him as he pulled Sheppard’s mouth down to his.

He wanted to take time, to explore, but something told him he didn’t have much time left, and he wrapped his fist around Sheppard’s cock. Sheppard groaned into his mouth, hips pumping once. His cock was hot and satin-smooth against Rodney’s palm and, slick with pre-come, it slid easily through his fist.

Sheppard dragged his mouth away from Rodney’s and panted against his throat for one stroke, two, before his body tightened and he was coming in warm spurts over Rodney’s stomach.

They lay like that for a while, both panting, Sheppard collapsed on Rodney’s chest. Then Rodney poked him and Sheppard rolled to the side, covering his face with his arm.

Rodney looked across the bed at him. His breathing was fast and uneven, his stomach muscles were contracting with occasional aftershocks, and a flush was spread across his cheeks and half way down his chest.

Naked was a good look for Sheppard. Naked, sweaty and post-coital was even better.

Rodney reached out and ran his hand down Sheppard’s sternum, gathering up sweat and mussing the soft, dark whirls of hair.

Sheppard smiled at him, affectionate and confused. Rodney smiled back. He could let himself have five more minutes of pretending this was real.

*

When Rodney opened his eyes, Sheppard was still in front of him. Only this time, he was fully clothed and Oberoth was pulling his fingers out of Sheppard’s forehead.

*

Being back on Atlantis felt surreal. Rodney could see it in all his teammates' eyes, the feeling that maybe they weren’t really there, that they were still on Asuras. Carson clucked and fussed and looked appalled even at the sketchy outline they gave him. He offered to get them appointments with Kate and only looked resigned when they all shouted him down. Rodney was perversely pleased that he was learning.

Still, at least there was no need to have a debriefing when Elizabeth knew what had happened just as well as they did. Rodney was able to escape back to his quarters much sooner than he’d hoped.

He’d only been there ten minutes when there was knock on the door.

“I’m not in,” he called, because it wasn’t like whoever it was would actually go away.

“Shucks,” Sheppard’s voice called back, “I guess I’ll go away then.”

Silence. Rodney rolled off the bed and pressed his ear to the door but didn’t hear anything.

Cautiously, he opened the door, and stuck his head out, looking left. And jumped out of his skin when someone tapped him on the right shoulder.

Sheppard laughed, “You didn’t actually believe me, did you?”

Rodney glared, “No. It was just wishful thinking.” He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to stare Sheppard down.

Sheppard cocked his head, “You gonna let me in?”

“No.”

A head-cock in the other direction and Rodney sighed before stepping back. “Fine. But be quick, I have important things to do.”

Sheppard made a show of looking around the room, “Tidying up?” he hazarded.

Rodney tried to scowl harder but found he’d already reached his peak. “Funny. It’s not messy, it’s supposed to look like this.”

“Right,” Sheppard’s smile suddenly slipped away. “Rodney,”

“What?” Cautiously.

“Look, I haven’t said anything to Heightmeyer yet, I wanted to talk to you first, but do you think maybe you should see her?”

“What for?”

“You said the Replicator-guys tortured you? Intimately?”

“Oh,” Rodney blew out a breath and walked to the other side of the room, leaning on the windowsill and looking out. He wasn’t thinking about that. He wasn’t.

“Rodney,” a warm hand onto his shoulder, a hand whose feel he already knew.

“It wasn’t exactly torture,” he confessed to the glass windowpane.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sheppard sounded like he was wincing; Rodney didn’t blame him. Talking wasn’t exactly their MO.

“Theymademehavesexwithyou.” It came out fast, all in one breath, but he hadn’t _meant_ to say it at all.

“What?”

“Are you asking me to repeat what I said or did you not understand what I meant?”

“Rodney…”

Rodney turned to face him, arms crossing tighter over his chest, “We don’t need to talk about it.”

Sheppard frowned, “Rodney, aren’t you even a little weirded out? These guys tricked you into having sex, thinking it was with me. God, Rodney, that’s kind of like…”

“Don’t you dare say rape,” Rodney interrupted quickly, “The most they did was give me a very realistic wet dream.” But Sheppard was still looking at him with such an odd mix of guilt and concern that Rodney found himself snapping, “Besides, I didn’t think it was you.”

“What?”

“Well to start with, I did, obviously. But then… everything was a bit too perfect. Not that I doubt you’re a genius in bed, but no one is _that_ good. It was too much like I’d imagined it.”

“You’d imagined it? Us?”

Crap. He had said that, hadn’t he? “No, I, that is…” he slumped slightly, “There’s really nothing I can say that will take back what I already said, is there?”

Sheppard shook his head, “Not really, no,” he drawled.

Rodney sighed and sat down on the bed. After a beat, Sheppard joined him, keeping the usual half-foot distance between them. Rodney didn’t feel any need to increase it – he felt, in fact, strangely calm. “If you’re going to hit me, can we do it tomorrow? Pistols at dawn or something?”

Sheppard laughed, then said softly, “I’m not gonna hit you, Rodney.”

He’d shifted and was looking Rodney straight in the eye. Rodney got a sudden wave of déjà vu. “You’re not?”

Sheppard wet his lips and shook his head.

Oh.

Oh, oh, _oh_. It was possible Rodney was reading this incredibly wrong, but if things weren’t getting scrambled in the translation, he thought he knew what Sheppard was saying. His heart started beating faster; he could feel it against the inside of his ribs. It was a strange feeling, not entirely pleasant.

“I –” Sheppard’s gaze suddenly faltered and he looked away. “Well, I should be going, I just wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”

“Colonel, wait,” Rodney watched his hand curl around Sheppard’s forearm, not knowing what he was going to say, but sure he didn’t want Sheppard to go yet. “What was your dream about? Other than the escaping back to Atlantis part, which you already mentioned.”

Sheppard’s face shuttered, but he made no more move to leave, which was all Rodney had wanted. “I -” He rubbed his forehead, “I died. The Wraith attacked and I had to manually activate the self-destruct.”

“God,” Rodney felt a wave of nausea. “That’s…”

“Hey,” Sheppard’s grin wobbled at the edges, but he nudged Rodney’s shoulder. “You offered to take my place.”

“I did?” Rodney felt a flutter of pride at that, even though it was ridiculous.

“Yeah. Couldn’t let you do it though.”

“Oh?”

Sheppard lifted a hand and ran his fingers affectionately over Rodney’s scalp, “Couldn’t let the best mind in two galaxies go to waste, could I?”

Rodney shivered at the touch, but managed to regroup enough for a token bluster, “Well, I’m glad to see you’ve finally come to realize my importance, Colonel.”

No answer, then he felt warm, slightly chapped lips touch his. Rodney sighed and tilted his head to a better angle, while Sheppard slid his hands up Rodney’s neck and cradled the back of Rodney’s head. It was nothing like those other kisses, the kisses that had been built out of Rodney’s fantasies of what it would be like to kiss Sheppard.

This was much more tentative, Sheppard closed-mouthed and surprisingly shy.

Rodney pulled back, “Is this okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Sheppard shook his head as if to clear it, “This is great." His smile was genuine, genuinely happy and it made Rodney feel a little giddy, “I just - I just can’t shake the feeling that none of this is real.”

Rodney sighed, “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“You feel it too?”

“Yes. But I don’t think it means anything; when we got back from M5S-224, I felt it for days.” At Sheppard’s frown, Rodney glared, “The Mist Planet? Do you honestly not remember where we go?”

“I remember, I just don’t remember their addresses. You’re the kind of guy who knows everyone’s phone numbers and birthdays, aren’t you?”

“Well, if their birthdays and telephone numbers were likely to save our lives, I probably would be, yes.”

Sheppard grinned at him, then the smile melted away, “So, I guess I really had better be going this time.”

Reluctantly, Rodney nodded, “Yeah.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to stay, it’s just… I want this to feel real.”

“Yeah.” Rodney could only nod again.

Sheppard was half way to the door when Rodney stopped him this time. “You could stay.”

Sheppard turned back around. “Yeah?”

“Just, you know -” Rodney waved a hand toward the bed, “Stay here. We don’t have to do anything else.”

Sheppard’s shoulders seemed to relax as if a weight were gone. “Okay.”

They undressed down to their boxers in silence. Sheppard, for all his bravado and Kirk-like tendencies, didn’t seem quite able to meet Rodney’s eye. Rodney knew it was crazy, but he thought he liked this version of Sheppard better than the suave one who’d seduced him on Asuras.

When he was undressed, Rodney suddenly realized just how bone-tired he was. He crawled under the blanket and was fighting to keep his eyes open when Sheppard joined him.

They wriggled around for a bit, trying to fit two tall men into one, not very wide, bed, but eventually, Rodney harrumphed and rolled onto his side, pulling Sheppard’s arm with him and wrapping it over his chest until Sheppard had to turn in and spoon up behind him.

Sheppard stayed rigid for a moment, then he seemed to melt against Rodney, shifting closer and resting some of his weight against Rodney’s back.

Sheppard was solid and radiating heat and Rodney closed his eyes. As far as he could tell, this was real. He was fairly certain he was going to wake up still in Atlantis.

And fairly certain was enough, at the moment, to let him fall asleep, Sheppard’s snores comforting and regular in his ear.

***

End


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